Bleeding Love
by blue peanut m and m
Summary: A brother wakes up alone and in a strange place, running the halls he searches for his sibling and answers, following noises he hears; but does he really want to meet who's making them? Read warnings before later chapters, this will get dark.
1. Chapter 1

Bleeding Love.

Summary. . . . . . . . . . A brother wakes up alone and in a strange place, running the halls he searches for his sibling and for answers, following noises he hears; but does he really want to meet who is making them?

**Disclaimer. . . . . . . . . Maybe tomorrow! For now they belong to Krikie and co.**

**A.N. . . . . . . . . So I know I have a couple of other unfinished fics out there but this plot just wouldn't leave me be. So here's chapter 1 of Bleeding Love, it's a teaser of sorts, the next chapters will be longer, if you like this one. Oh and be warned this fic will get dark so check out the warnings before later chapters. Thanks as always for reading, Peanut x**

He felt as though he had been running for days, as he ran blindly down endless corridors, his bare feet slapping noisily across the chilled tiles of the floor, his voice echoing back to him from vast empty spaces, his eyes searching every darkened shadow and room in an attempt to find another soul living within, his lungs burning with exhaustion, his throat hoarse from overuse, his body and hair damp and sweaty. As he reached another set of stairs, he hastily raced up them, his legs and arms pumping madly, pushing him to go that little bit further, his mind egging him on his quest to find answers, to find people, to find his brother; but as he reached the top and barged through yet another doorway, allowing it to crash noisily against the wall, the sound deafening in the silent halls, all he was faced with was yet another seemingly endless corridor, yet more empty rooms, and an unnerving realization that he was here alone.

He dropped to the floor as the crushing weight of reality overwhelmed him, his knees drawing tightly to his chest, his arms wrapping protectively around them, his head falling to rest heavily upon them, his eyes trained upon a spot of the pristine white walls, wetness slowly ebbing it's way across lashes to fall down stubble covered cheeks, before dripping off his jaw to be captured and curtailed by the rough, white cotton of his t-shirt. He sat unmoving as his breathing slowly began to return to normal, before he swiped angrily at the tears flowing down his face, now was not the time for this, he had to figure out where he was, he to figure out where his brother was, he had to figure out what went wrong, he had to figure out how he got here; but the oppressive gloom this place created seemed to seep within his very pores, and no matter how hard he tried not to, he couldn't help the melancholy that engulfed him, crushing around him like some invisible boa constrictor, and plying his mind with thought's; thought's of failure, and loneliness, and death, and try as he might he couldn't shake them, allowing them to take further hold of him and drag him even further into their clutches, until he no longer thought, or felt anything.

He had no idea how long he'd sat there again before he began to hear things again, these episodes getting longer and longer, time having no meaning in this place. At first he dismissed the barely there sounds as figments of his imagination, but as they grew in strength he lifted his head and listened more closely, someone was here, they were on another level but someone was definitely here, opening and closing doors as though searching for someone. Hope soared briefly within him, it had to be his brother, only to fall as he realized he really didn't know. Surely his sibling would have answered his calls, so the question was, who was out there? And were they good or bad? Using the walls for support he pushed his leaden limbs up, cramped muscles protesting the move, and pins and needles prickling his skin, causing him to falter and moan. He pushed through the pain though as the need to find this other person increased, a heavy heart hoping it was his brother. The need to be reassured that everything would be okay, that there was a reason for all this, growing.

He made his way back to the stairwell, the discomfort he had been feeling dispersing the more he reused his limbs. Pushing open the door, he stopped and listened intently trying to figure out whether he should go up or down; another door slamming shut above him making the option all the more easier. With just a hint of trepidation he started to climb, his feet moving all the more quicker as he was sure he heard his name being bellowed, the tone muffled, disguising who was shouting. He hesitated as he reached the next level, his hunter mind kicking in, preventing him from rushing blindly into something he would regret; but curiosity and a need to see another human being battled against caution, defeating it and pushing it back down. Opening the door, he stepped out into yet another endless corridor, turning to his left as he heard a door open and close. He started to run, the panic that this person would leave before he got there, causing him forget all his training and push onwards into the unknown.

As a door reopened further up the hall and a figure stepped out, he faltered, his feet back peddling frantically, catching upon themselves to send him crashing to his backside on the floor. A look of confusion and fear registered upon his face as he finally recognized the figure who was now moving towards him. He started to scuttle backwards in an attempt to get away, but the figure was faster, capturing him, it's legs straddling either side of his body, it's own body settling upon his groin, it's arms pushing him down before it's hands began to stroke his cheeks. He tried to move, tried to throw it off, but all power seemed to have left him, leaving him powerless to do anything as it moved it's face down, words falling from it's mouth, before it crushed it's lips against his own.

**A.N. . . . . . . . . . Well should I continue? I hope that you enjoyed, will catch you soon, Peanut x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Bleeding Love.**

**Summary. . . . . . . . . . A brother wakes up alone and in a strange place, running the halls he searches for his sibling and for answers, following noises he hears; but does he really want to meet who is making them?**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . . . . Maybe tomorrow! For now they belong to Krikie and co.**

**A.N. . . . . . . . . This fic has really grabbed a hold of me, to the point where I've found myself this morning typing out the next chapter when I should have been sleeping. A big reveal is made at the start of the chapter and another follows quickly as you read further. I'm not too sure if you'll like the turn it creates, but here goes anyway! Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed, I haven't gotten around to replying just yet, will you forgive me now that I've posted really early? Well I think I've rambled enough, lets get on with the show, and enjoy chapter 2.**

Dean sat slumped in the oversized armchair, Bobby having dragged down to the panic room after the eldest Winchester had refused to leave following the first of Sam's seizures. It had long since been considered comfortable, it' flowered pattern faded, the stuffing seeping from torn seems in places, the spring digging painfully into whoever sat in it in others; but sat he had, never once complaining, or gripping. For two weeks it had been his home, for two weeks he had used it as a base whilst he cared for his brother, that was how long they it had been since they had loaded an already weakening Sam into this God forsaken room, just a few hours less since he had seen any glimpse of recognition in his brother's eyes. Since then he had taken care of his siblings every need, caring little to nothing about his own; leaving him physically and mentally drained. Fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty six hours. Twenty thousand one hundred and sixty minutes. One million two hundred and nine thousand six hundred seconds, he had waited in that chair, never leaving unless nature required him too, or Bobby threatened. He ate there, he slept there, he pleaded there, pleaded for Sam's safe recovery.

He looked about the room now, a room that had once meant safety and security, a room that now felt confining and claustrophobic. He hated everything about this place now, hated the sparseness of the walls, the coldness of the cement floor beneath him, the constant hum of the fan above him, it's soft whump whump sound grating on his every nerve, making him want to run crazed as far away from it as possible, but he knew he couldn't, Sam might awaken, Sam might need him, and no matter what had past between them, Dean was loathe to deny his brother. For fourteen days he had been there every step of the way as his brother's body was purged of the poison he had consumed. He'd held Sam down as he had seized; held him off as he fought; held him close and comforted as he released his emotions, wracking sobs shaking his very body as he cried in grief, and sadness, and guilt; he'd held him as he vomited the blackness away; wiped tears and sweat and blood as his body began to fight back for control; yet never once had he regretted his actions, never once had he thought to leave his brother's side, Sam was back now, clean and sober so to speak, and once he was awake Dean was determined to keep him that way, so he sat in his chair and waited; he waited fourteen days, what was another few?

He looked over at Sam now, his brother looking so small and childlike as he lay there. His huge frame curled into an impossibly tight ball; his hair framing a face that took back it's childlike innocence in sleep; thankful that the worst seemed to be over. "Sleep well Sammy." He whispered hoping the words would continue to bring comfort to his sibling. Little did he know that beneath lashes that rested against pale cheeks, hazel eyes were captured, and a mind was being plagued by dreams.

Sam lay defenseless beneath the body that had pinned him down, his limbs refusing to obey his brains commands, forcing him to just watch as the spirits caresses increased in intensity, her hands threading through his hair pulling his head back, exposing his neck for her pleasure. He tried to shrink back as she once again began to devour his mouth with her own, her lips no longer as warm and inviting as they had once been, now cold and emotionless. He tried to prevent it as she invaded his mouth with her tongue, but it was as if he were frozen, his mind taken over, and he found himself opening up for her. Tears flowed as she kissed and bit at his lips, the caresses he had loved and cherished now painful and unwanted. He tried to turn his head away as she whispered in his ear words of love, and regret, and it having been so long; the endearments moving like ice through his veins to pierce once again at a heart that had never truly mended.

This had to be a dream, a nightmare. This couldn't be real, could it? But his mind was confused and muddled and battling within itself, telling him one thing and then another until he couldn't tell what was right or wrong. He tried again to remember how he had gotten here, to remember how he had become lost his from brother; because he was sure that he had been with Dean, a small part of him remembering feeling hurt, and betrayed, and angry, and guilty, so very, very guilty; but after that all he could remember was a light so bright it was blinding, a light so bright it should have been pure, but instead it emitted a growing feeling of evil and dread. He shuddered at that feeling, willing it to leave his body and never return, and as her kisses moved down his body he gave in to her. He had loved her at one time, would it be bad of him to want to feel that love again? To go back in time to a person he was happy with? To forget all the darkness and death? As those thoughts began to take hold, Sam found he could move again, found his arms begin to roam up her sides and pull her closer, his own mouth moving to take hers, their lips at the point of meeting when a voice suddenly echoed softly about the halls preventing him from sealing once again their love. "Sleep well Sammy."

This was wrong. This was so very wrong. Free from her spell, Sam pushed away the one true love of his life, and willed his legs to begin moving once again, scrambling down the hallway in a vain attempt to get away, but his body was weak and within seconds he found himself once again at her mercy. This time though instead of love shining in her eyes, Sam found hurt; hurt and a hint of malice.

"Why Sam?" She asked. "I thought you loved me?" She whispered as she drew him close once more. "I will make you love me again."

Frozen and unable to move once more, Sam could only watch as her hands moved down towards his belt, a barely heard plea of "No Jess, please" falling from his lips.

To Be Continued. . . . . . . . . . .

**A.N. . . . . . . . . So ziggy, was you right? And supernatfem76 that's where the title came from. Thanks as always for reading, will be back soon with another chapter, catch you then, Peanut x**


	3. Chapter 3

**Bleeding Love.**

**Summary. . . . . . . . . . A brother wakes up alone and in a strange place, running the halls he searches for his sibling and for answers, following noises he hears; but does he really want to meet who is making them?**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . . . . Maybe tomorrow! For now they belong to Kripkie and co.**

**A.N. . . . . . . . . . Okay here's the first of those warnings I warned you about, there is a scene of non-com rape in this chapter, so read at your own discretion. That being said I still hope that you enjoy chapter 3, Peanut x**

Dean jumped and tore his eyes away from his brother as the heavy iron door of the panic room began to open, his body instantly primed and ready to defend Sam against whoever or what ever was about to enter the room; only relaxing when Bobby's grizzled features showed, the older hunter carrying a plate of food and a steaming cup of coffee.

"Figured you'd stay down here again and forget, so I brought ya food to ya." The older hunter spoke as he settled the sandwiches upon the small desk, and placed the coffee into Dean's hands. "Drink! Eat! You'll be of no use to Sam if you collapse from hunger." Bobby waited for Dean to take a tentative sip before wondering over to where the youngest Winchester lay, seemingly peaceful in sleep. "How's he doing?"

"He seems to have made it past the worst, but I don't know. . . . . . . . . Shouldn't he have woken up by now?"

"His bodies been through a lot, maybe this is it's way of fixing itself. He'll wake up when he's ready."

"I know. I know, but I just want. . . . . . . .need to see for myself that he's back, that he's Sammy again, that he's my brother."

"Aw son, he's never been anything but your brother. He might have made some poor choices, but he thought he was making them for the right reasons, and that there tells me Sam never left."

Dean looked at the older man, a man he had come to see as a father figure, a man who loved both Sam and himself as though they were both his own children, a small smile gracing his face for the first time, it's radiance beginning to chip away at the depression that had consumed him since Lucifer's rising. Bobby was right, Sam had never left, and Dean was filled with a new found vigor to make sure Sam knew he was still needed, wanted, loved when he eventually began to awaken.

He reached out for one of the sandwiches Bobby had prepared, knowing his friend was right, Sam would be weakened when he woke, would need all the help he could get to gain back the strength he had lost, and Dean was determined to be there to help, something he wouldn't be able to do if he didn't start looking after himself. He raised the turkey on rye to his mouth and bit hungrily into it, realizing for the first time just how long it had been since he had last eaten, as his stomach growled loudly. Embarrassed he lowered his eyes away from Bobby and prepared to take another bit; a moan from the bed stopping him mid chew. Throwing the sandwich back onto the plate, he rushed over to his brother's side, hoping that his sibling was about to waken. Disappointment crossing his face as he realized it was not to be.

"Crap!" He ground out.

"What is it?" Bobby inquired.

"He's burning up and his pulse is way too fast." Dean answered, his mouth opening to speak again only to close as his brother bucked violently from the cot, and a scream of pure anguish tore from his throat.

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Sam tried again to push Jess away, his mind torn as he tried to figure out what was going on. Who was this? Was it Jess? Or something else? He battled all the more harder within himself as the hands that held him moved further down his torso to rest teasingly upon his belt. It looked and felt so much like the woman who had saved him from his miserable existence at Stanford, and he so desperately wanted it to be her, the need to beg for her forgiveness never having left his soul, the need to be told he was loved by her, to be held by her, to return to a time when his life had meaning, overwhelming him, confusing him, making him forget for a minute the things he hunted; allowing her hold of him to gain strength, until he was nothing but a pawn in her hands.

Yet something deep inside him knew this wasn't her, that this thing that held him couldn't be the woman he had loved so strongly. Her touch was familiar, yet it was cold, her eyes were still the pools he could always get lost in, yet they no longer held that sparkle that made them Jess. He started to struggle all the more, a dreading realization that this wasn't Jess beginning to stir inside him. This was wrong, so very wrong, and he had to figure out a way to gain the upper hand, to get away, but how? Using all the strength he could muster, he pushed again at the body that ground up against his own; a body that had once fit so comfortably against his own, now seeming angular and ill fitting. He tried again as he felt her limbs move away from his, this time his efforts enabling him to move away from the wall that limited his movements. Pushing aside all the guilt and anguish he felt at doing so, he aimed a punch at Jess' face, begging for forgiveness even though he now knew this was not her, turning and running again as the blow stunned her enough to completely break her hold. As had happened earlier though, he was soon caught within her clutches, his weakened body once more failing him.

He grunted in pain as he was forcefully slammed to the floor, the agony nothing compared to the pain he felt as he looked once more into eyes that were no longer the ones that had attracted him to Jess in the first place. Instead these eyes were frozen with a need for revenge, for hurt, and yet still for love; a love that would be reciprocated, no matter at what cost. Unable to move once more, he could only suffer the indignity as Jess' form once more attacked, her hands making quick work of his belt; a knife formed out of nowhere to easily cut through the worn denim of his jeans and the soft cotton of his boxers, the chill of the corridor causing shivers to traverse their way throughout his body, shivers that soon turned to trembles as her hand gripped him and started to move, her body rubbing up against him with every stroke. He allowed tears to fall as his body responded to her administrations, and choked sobs to rip their way from his throat, his body bucking from the floor and a scream of anguish echoing down the halls, as the chillness of the room returned briefly before he was surrounded by her heat. He tried to turn his head away, but found he couldn't; tried to close his eyes, but found he could still see; tried to drown out the sounds, but still they haunted him, the soft moans of pleasure and the tightness of her body familiar to him, arousing him even though his mind didn't want this, bringing him to an unwanted release, Jess following closely afterwards, her body falling in sated pleasure to rest upon his own, her eyes closed, her face relaxed, making her once again look so much like the woman he had loved, creating confliction within him once more. As he felt her sleep against him, her body returning to the familiar one he had lain against for all those years, Sam prayed; prayed for someone to rescue him from this confusing and hurtful hell.

To Be Continued. . . .

**A.N.. . . . . . . . Thanks as always for taking time out to read, I hope that I didn't upset you too much with the bad scene? Will be back soon with a new chapter, catch you then, Peanut x**


	4. Chapter 4

**Bleeding Love.**

**Summary. . . . . . . . . . A brother wakes up alone and in a strange place, running the halls he searches for his sibling and for answers, following noises he hears; but does he really want to meet who is making them?**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . . . . Maybe tomorrow! For now they belong to Kripkie and co. **

**A.N. . . . . . . . . Thanks to everyone for taking time out to read this fic; here's chapter 4, I hope that you enjoy. Peanut x**

"What the hell? Bobby what's going on?" Dean asked as Sam continued to thrash about on the bed.

"I don't know son, it could be the fever, but it doesn't appear to be that high. Vision maybe? Nightmare?"

"He hasn't had a vision since yellow eyes died, so it can't be that! Nightmare maybe, he suffers from them a lot, but I've never seen he react like this before. Do you think something supernatural is going on here?"

"I can't see how, the whole place is demon proof. . . . . . . . . ."

"But what if it wasn't a demon, there's a hell of a lot more things out there, could something else have entered here and be doing this?"

"I'll rechecked the wards, lets hope they're all intact. As you say there are a hell of a lot of things out there, if one got through it'll be a bitch to figure out which one. Just incase it is just the fever though, try and lower his temperature." Bobby turned to leave stopping at the door to the iron room as Sam let out yet another traumatized plea.

"Jess, please."

Both men exchanged a look before turning their attention back towards Sam, both men's eyes widening as they watched Sam's body respond in a way they both new would shame him if he ever found out they had witnessed it. They watched as he fought and battled against a sensation that was unwanted by him; watched as tears flowed as he lost the battle and his body released; watched as he curled up on the bed, defeat and embarrassment seeming to flow from his body; watched as the tears intensified. Finally after several minutes had passed Dean found the courage to speak up.

"Bobby? What the hell just happened? Did he . . . . . . . . .? Did I . . . . . . . . . .? Did we . . . . . . . . . . .?" He paused and took a shaky breath before trying again. "Did we just witness what I think we just witnessed?"

Bobby pulled off his well worn ball cap, running a hand through his hair he stalled for time, his mind still numb from what he had just seen. "I think so." He eventually answered, saddened by what his words implied. He watched as Dean's shoulders slumped for a moment before he righted the barriers he always kept erected, a determination to get to the bottom of this, to save Sam from this hell reigniting within the older sibling.

"We have work to do! This is no nightmare, something is in there with Sam, and if it's no demon we need to find out what it is. If we don't we're gonna lose my brother, and that's something I can't allow to happen. As it is, if that cry of Jess' name is anything to go by, we're gonna have a hard time getting Sam back from this. You trawl through the books, I'm gonna get Sam's laptop and work down here, I want to be here incase this happens again."

"Dean, the laptop wont work in here."

"Fine then I'll work outside of this room, but I'm not leaving the basement. Sam's gonna need me near." He waited for Bobby to go and retrieve Sam's laptop for him before he turned back towards where Sam lay curled up into the smallest ball possible on the cot. Running a hand through his sweat soaked locks, he was dismayed when his brother unconsciously tried to pull away from the comfort. Persisting regardless, Dean also began whispering words he hoped Sam could here, reassurances that everything would be okay, that they were working on finding out what was wrong, that this would all stop soon. But the reassurances fell on deaf ears, Sam's broken mind failing to hear.

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He tried to stay as still as possible, tried to prevent himself from moving even an inch, unwilling to wake the thing that was lying next to him, unwilling to risk what had just happened from happening again. He tried to still the shaking that coursed throughout his body, worried that even that slight movement would awaken her, but shock was setting in, and adding to the cold that was seeping into his naked body, causing the shaking to turn into trembling, and the steady flow of tears to increase. He turned fearful eyes her way as she moved next to him, the soft swell of her breast rubbing against his side, causing a reaction within him yet again. It felt so real, so familiar, so Jessica; but he knew that it couldn't be, that this was just some sort of a horrific dream. Yet he still so desperately wanted it to be her. He looked at her face, remembering back to when he had spent many a sleepless night after a nightmare had struck, lying in a similar position, staring at her whilst she slept, taking comfort in her presence, her heat gradually chasing away the chills that always took hold of him. Could this really be her? But would she have done what she had just done? A fresh course of tears trailed down his cheeks as he realized this couldn't be her, Jess would have never hurt him the way she had just done so.

He stiffened as she stretched beside him, her delicate frame arching pushing her most intimate parts against him, as she awakened from her slumber. She smiled as she opened her eyes, looking so very much like Jessica that Sam found himself once again doubting himself, found himself once again believing that this in fact could be her. He watched as her face fell as she witnessed the tears that fell silently from his expressive eyes, her body moving so that she lay more upon him then beside him, the heat of her resting against his groin, his organ once again responding to each little shift of her weight. Reaching out with a cold hand she brushed at the wetness that coated his stubbled cheeks, and lowered her mouth to his own, her lips this time warm and inviting; so inviting that he found himself unable to stop as her kisses intensified, found himself once again believing that all he had wished for had come true, that Jess was alive. But as that cold hand moved further down his body, and his protests of no were once again ignored, he found the will to turn away from her mouth.

As her hand pushed between their bodies, roughly gripping him, and starting to arouse him once again, it's ministrations painful and brutal; Sam began to fight once again, the fog that had been clouding his judgment lifting slightly and allowing him to see her in her true light, allowing him to see just what he was dealing with. He battled with all the strength he could muster to push her away, all the while speaking words he hoped would banish her for a time and prevent his body from being used once again. Realizing what he was doing though, Jess struck, her punch hard and well aimed stunning Sam into silence as his head bounced viciously off the floor with it's force. Unwilling to allow Sam time to recover she attacked his mouth with vigor once again, preventing the words he so desperately needed to speak from being released. As her body once more impaled itself upon his, the familiarity once again returning, confusing Sam once more, he gave in and allowed her to bring him to release, the tears that had been falling, stilling as his mind began to give up, allowing the thoughts that this was the real Jess to take over, his heart once more bleeding love for her.

To Be Continued. . . . . . . . . . . . .

**A.N. . . . . . . . . . . Will be back soon with an update, catch you later, Peanut x**


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